


Children's Tales

by Ishimorie



Category: Professional Wrestling, WWE, ecw
Genre: F/M, Fairytales gone wild, Smut, my take on fairytales
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 06:46:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17761826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ishimorie/pseuds/Ishimorie
Summary: A/N: I’ve had this sitting in my WIPs for a while and I’ve finally had the drive to finish it. This is admittedly a self-indulgent twist of the children’s Sandman legend featuring one of my favorite ECW stars as the man himself. Not sure who to tag but I enjoyed writing this and I hope you guys like it.





	Children's Tales

You settled into bed, praying against the insomnia you were certain would keep you from your slumber. Everything is perfect. You thought. I just need to close my eyes and sleep. Your eyes fluttered close and your body tossed and turned trying to find a comfortable position. You forced yourself to quit and you simply stared at the ceiling for what seemed like hours. Come on. You thought once more. Where’s sleepy dust when you need it.

It was in that moment you remembered a story from your childhood about a being known only as the Sandman, who brought sleep and pleasant dreams to all who needed him. It was a naive thing, believing in children’s tales, but you were desperate. So in an attempt to fall asleep at a decent hour, you called upon him, letting his name fall from your lips.

“Sandman.” You lips quivered with excitement, what could go wrong. Worse case, nothing would happen but at least you could say you officially tried everything in the book. At first, nothing came of the saying.

Futile and naive. You thought once more when suddenly the curtains of your room moved with a slight breeze. You blinked and he was there. He was pale and his hair was slightly graying. He looked like your typical guy with a few small scars on his face, one where a clear eyebrow piercing lay and several on his forehead. Rough Sandman. Not what you expected at all. Portrayals of the being always showed him as a golden humanoid or a simple shadow, but never as an older beaten up man of the night.

“Are you?” You paused knowing full well who you brought into your life. “Sandman?” You continued hushed. He made no noise, eyes cast down. You observed him further. He wore a plain black t-shirt and jeans that were clearly aged and beaten. His build was lanky, except for a slightly protruding stomach. Overall he was strangely attractive. 

“Can you help me?” You asked unsure of his purpose. Nothing about him was what it seemed, who knows if he was actually some sort of god of sleep or just an entity who had lost his power long ago.

His eyes shifted up to meet yours and he stepped to the bed before sitting on the edge. 

“Insomnia.” He mumbled out. “I don’t have a definite cure admittedly, but I think I can help. You seem desperate." 

"You have no idea, I’ll do anything for some shut-eye.” He brought his hand to your shoulders and his eyes drifted from yours down to the sheets that kept most of you from view. His other hand pulled at the sheet. You nodded and pushed back the white sheets revealing a pale colored babydoll nightie to his eyes. He seemed to admire it. Running slight touches along the transparent fabric that now lay open exposing the soft flesh of your stomach. His hand worked lower, inching inside the mesh-like fabric of the thong. You gasped. He stopped his motions on your mound and his other hand moved to stroke your forehead as he gently shushed you. 

Complying with his silent request and relaxed into him as the motions continued. His comforting hand pulled away from your face and drifted to his groin. This drew a soft moan from your lips. You were close. His eyes gazed back up to yours. He knew it too and worked a finger inside you. The gentle touches and workings of your sex built up a familiar pleasure in your stomach, he began to count down.

The man murmured out a one, and on cue, pleasure took over your body. You writhed, eyes completely glued shut as you drifted off into the bliss. Pleasant dreams coursed through your brain. You slipped into a peaceful sleep and by the time you woke, the man, or being, was gone. You sat up in your bed and murmured out a “Thank you.” as a smile graced your lips. The curtain moved slightly and you took that as a sign that part of his spirit remained with you. You went about your day as normal, a small part of you hoped he would return when night came along.


End file.
